The moon hung low over the Ivory Spire, casting silver light through the cracks in the stone walls of Marcus Valen's private study.
The room was dimly lit by a single floating flame, its flicker dancing like a restless spirit against the ancient tomes lining the shelves.
But tonight, it wasn't books that occupied Marcus's attention.
It was the Veil of Ashes—a relic he had recovered from the ruins beneath the Academy's catacombs, sealed within a crystal casing no larger than his palm.
At its core pulsed The Veil of Eternal Flames, an ember-like shard of forbidden fire that burned cold instead of hot.
He stared at it for a long moment before placing his hand upon the casing.
The world around him dissolved.
In the darkness, flames roared—not orange or red, but deep and unnatural blue.
They twisted skyward into a storm-lit void where the stars themselves seemed to scream.
Amidst the inferno stood a figure clad in a flowing coat of molten gold, arms raised as waves of dark fire lashed out against a nameless enemy.
Marcus could feel the heat on his skin, smell the iron tang of blood and ash.
Then, the man turned.
And for the briefest moment, their eyes met.
That face… it was familiar.
Not as he remembered himself—but as he might have become.
A voice echoed in the void: "Flamebringer… your path is written in embers."
The vision shattered.
Marcus jolted upright with a gasp, sweat clinging to his brow despite the chill of the chamber.
The Veil of Ashes now lay inert on the table, the Eternal Flames core pulsing faintly.
A soft click sounded from beneath his robes.
The Codex of Shadows opened itself on instinct, flipping pages with ghostly speed before stopping at page four.
> [Memory Fragment Unlocked – "The Flamebringer's Descent"]
> [Fate Thread Influence Detected]
> [Current Fate Anomaly Level: 0.7 → 0.9]
> [Personal Fortune Theft Limit Increased: 1.5% → 2.0%]
Marcus exhaled slowly, his mind racing.
This wasn't just a memory—it was a warning.
And more importantly, an opportunity.
If the flamebringer had wielded such power, then perhaps there was more to this "vacant" element—the void affinity—than mere legend suggested.
He had seen hints buried in the Codex, fragments of forgotten runes etched into the margins of old battle reports.
If the eternal flames core could act as a catalyst…
His lips curled into a thin smile.
It was time to test the limits of his second chance.
Later that night, under the cover of shadow and silence, Marcus slipped into the abandoned eastern training yard—an overgrown ruin hidden behind the crumbling remains of an old siege workshop.
The air here still reeked of burnt ozone, remnants of failed elemental experiments from decades past.
He unrolled a scroll retrieved from the Codex—a map of intricate rune lines, each one glowing faintly with residual magic.
With careful precision, he traced the markings onto the ground using powdered obsidian and crushed voidstone.
At the center of the circle, he placed the eternal flames core.
He knelt beside it, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a network of faint tattoos—runes woven into his flesh during his early days at the Academy.
Most were inert, but tonight, they would awaken.
"Void resonance," he whispered, pressing his palm against the core.
The effect was immediate.
A low hum vibrated through the air.
The runes flared with black-blue light, seeping into his veins like ink dissolving in water.
His vision blurred for a heartbeat—and then he saw it.
Darkness, not as absence of light, but as something alive.
A tendril of shadow coiled around his arm, writhing like smoke made solid.
It absorbed the ambient glow, pulling it inward until even the moonlight bent toward it.
He clenched his fist.
The flame vanished—but the sensation lingered.
A hollow ache settled in his chest, like a second heartbeat trying to synchronize with a force beyond comprehension.
His breath came in shallow bursts.
Sweat dripped down his temple.
Too much. Too fast.
The elements within him rebelled—fire, water, and earth warring for dominance, thrown into chaos by the intrusion of void energy.
He staggered back, collapsing to one knee.
The runes flickered and died.
Gritting his teeth, he sealed the core away and stumbled toward the exit.
He needed time.
Time to recover.
Time to prepare.
Time to learn how to survive what he was about to unleash.
Two days later, rumors began to swirl.
Professor Aelia Serin, renowned for her anti-royalist rhetoric and sharp eye for deception, had grown suspicious of Marcus's recent behavior.
The way he avoided group exercises, his sudden disappearance during nights—these were not the habits of a disinterested noble brat.
She summoned Augustus Glem, a senior student and protégé of the Council of Elements.
"Keep your eyes open," she instructed, handing him a crystalline lens embedded with tracking sigils.
"Note every incantation, every gesture. Report anything unusual."
Augustus accepted the task without question, though his expression betrayed unease.
Serin dismissed him with a wave of her hand, already drafting a report to the High Council.
"Subject Marcus Valen exhibits symptoms consistent with early-stage void resonance. Elemental instability detected in aura scans. Recommend preemptive containment if royal interference escalates."
She signed the parchment with a flourish.
Let the boy play with shadows, she thought.
Sooner or later, the abyss always bites back.
Back in his quarters, Marcus sat cross-legged atop a meditation mat, eyes closed, body wrapped in layers of elemental shielding charms.
The internal turbulence had not fully subsided.
Fire clashed with ice in his bloodstream.
Earth trembled against wind.
But beneath the chaos, something new stirred.
A whisper in the void.
He smiled faintly.
They wanted to watch him?
Let them look.
Soon enough, they'd see what the Flamebringer could do when the veil was torn.
For now, however, a performance was required.
Tomorrow, the mid-term combat trials would begin.